


To Witness the Coming Darkness

by Severedpsychos



Category: Book - Fandom, Books and Literature - Fandom, Literature - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Conflict, F/F, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Story - Freeform, Original Universe, Other, Plot, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Tactical, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severedpsychos/pseuds/Severedpsychos
Summary: Three groups vie for three different goals. One for preservation of life and freedoms, one for complete dominance, and one for complete annihilation. Though time and space, many will find a path to unite their various skills and determination. Darkness is coming, nothing can stop that from occurring, but it can be stopped before it completes its desire to eradicate all life. Behind everything are the Witnesses, a group of humans chosen by the universe to experience the entirety of existence, time is no bar, backwards and forwards, all possibilities are laid out in a single endless moment. What will they make of it? What will you?





	1. Rock Bottom

**Author's Note:**

> A complete Character List is forthcoming. This work is by no means short and will go on for a while while i write. This work has at least twenty major/minor characters, with the potential for more. The reader hasn't met them all yet but i hope a reader will stick around to read more.

Jack Cairn had no idea what rock bottom really looked like, but he imagined it must be staring at him in the mirror of a gas station bathroom. He glanced down in disbelief at the revolver next to his hand. He hadn’t heard of a revolver failing to fire very often but this one did, six times in a row while he was snacking on the barrel no less. then failed to fire six more times upon reloading. Jack had then pointed it at the stall and fired a “dud” without a hitch, six times. To top it all off, he had tried to hang himself only for the rope to break, and the chain that he tried after that. Both times he barely had a bruise. Then he tried jumping from the tallest buildings he could find only to have various and improbable things happen to save his worthless ass, such as trucks filled with wool or mattresses, even a stiff breeze that stood him back up every time he tried to fall. The world wouldn’t let him die. He already lost his wife and son, Jane and little Toby, to his rampant alcoholism and violence. He swore he wouldn’t be like his father but that was a shit promise just as his “for better or worse” was. Now he had nothing, not even his job as a reporter for the Chicago Sun Times, his hat still bore the press card in it from his last gig reporting on a Boy Scout Jamboree. Jack snorted at the memory as if to propel it from his mind before it went to when he was fired and cried like a child in front of two dozen or so impressionable youths. He had spent the last of his money on alcohol and any drug that could kill his humiliation and loathing. Of course, he clearly couldn’t die by overdose either. A fat repulsive man had walked up to the stall and opened it while he reloaded. “That isn’t going to do it Jack, you are a man I am not allowed to touch, why not find something more productive to do…” Fat Man trailed off with a laugh as Jack pointed the revolver at him. “It won’t work on you so what makes you think it would work on Death itself?” With a blink the fat man was gone and Jack had pondered if he had really saw what he did. Either everyone was wrong and Death wasn’t skinny after all, or a random fuck had barged in, said things he couldn’t possibly know, and then vanished silently like a fucking fart. He left a rancid feeling behind too, just like a fart, like the fart when you shit yourself. Either those or he was still high as Holy Mother Mary and none of this was happening beyond his fucked-up brain sending it to his peepers.

 Jack stared more intently into the mirror seeing his own ice blue eyes wreathed in red from too much, too much alcohol, too much drugs, too much stress, too much loss. His eyes filled with tears, he would never watch his boy grow, play catch with him, slap his back after his first fuck, nothing. Jack’s life was emptiness. He needed cash to keep drunk and high. Fortunately, a reporter has a reason to know the mayor is out of town and god damn rich. Time to go pay that historic pile of Victorian styled timbers a visit. It wasn’t long before he was there, or it was a while and Jack was too high to fucking know. He climbed the wall with rather astonishing ease for how shit hammered he was. Did he mention high already? The Mayor’s Mansion was different from what he remembered when he took that bribe for not exposing the mayor’s mistress to the general public, such easy money. Of course, he just sold it to another paper and got double the money at the cost of being banned from contacting the Mayor ever again. It was a good deal. Jack stumbled to lawn and saw a vixen of a woman walk into the house’s front door. She was someone you fantasize about, tall, hair like golden moonlight, and a figure that surely made any young man soak their trousers and not with piss either. Hell, Jack was drunk, high and married, and he had a stiffy to do a tent proud. Oh wait, he’s not married. Jack felt that familiar crush of misery but was undaunted by the fact a gorgeous gal was hiding out in the Mayor’s place. He needed the damn money, if he couldn’t die he might as well be drunk enough to not know anything anymore.

He went for the front door, brazen as the Boys the stormed Eagles Nest to kill that fuck Hitler. He felt a jolt of thrill still, ten years later, thinking about his Arty boys giving those defenders a hell of a shellacking before the Infantry kicked in his front door, which he now tried to emulate. the kick hit weakly and the door didn’t budge. Jack kicked again and again, the back of his mind somehow registered there was no sound from his sad kicking. Sobbing Jack threw the beer bottle he never knew he had and it shattered on the door, with no sound. Tired and feeling hopelessness close its jaws around his throat Jack sagged against the door, catching a glimpse of light through the keyhole. “What the Fuck is this shit?” Jack managed to work himself around to his knees to stare through the key hole.  It was like one of those kaleidoscope things, shifting fragments of colorful shapes, he felt like he couldn’t pull away. Images began to appear, the birth of his boy, the assassination of Archduke whatever the fuck, The Salem Witch Trials, Normandy being sold to the Vikings, Churchill making one of his speeches, People in furs and not much else making a fire. Jack had no idea how he knew any of this. he was a shit student with a talent for digging up shit on people, that why he was transferred to army intelligence after the war, why he was a damned good reporter.

“You know, I hate you. You’re not that bad a person, hell Odin has you beat by a thousand miles on his mild days, but I hate you all the same. So weak, so sad. I hate you because you are the First.” The woman had somehow snuck around on him. Jack recoiled in shock and tried to get up to flee but instead stumbled a few steps and vomited two years of food, so it seemed and collapsed to the ground laying face up, he could choke to death like that, maybe that would work. “You can’t die like that either, Death told you so, you get to be miserable and live eternally here in this single frozen timeline. OR, you could just open the door without all the kicking and screaming, yes you were screaming. like a child who has had toys taken away. Get up Drunky, you are a lightweight, Thor would drink you under any surface you care to name. Let me help you up.”

A slender effeminate hand reached out and dominated Jack’s vison, and he grabbed it like a drowning sailor, he was hauled up effortlessly by this broad, did she mean lightweight literally or was she something out of Nietzsche’s nightmares? What a woman. Fuck he could drown in those tits or hips. “Who the fuck are you Bitch? Don’t act like you know me or talk like one of my boys from the war. You have no right.” Eyes squinting Jack jabbed an accusatory finger at the woman only to have her grab it and bend it back painfully, driving him to his knees. He was beginning to spend too much time on them for his liking and tried to stand but the Bitch just popped the finger out of joint and continued her tirade as if he never spoke or puked all over himself.

“WHY! Why is such a pathetic man the First? I met your wife and son by the way,” the Bitch smiled coldly, “I had a good time with them. My sister Nyx has laid claim to your boy, they will make a fine couple, they will even have a daughter. I will be as a Mother to another daughter your boy Tobias will care for. All of this while you are given the gift of gifts, to see it all, all the variations and twists, all things that echo in the eternities in their various forms. Just open the Door and be glad the Universe told me to be here, otherwise you would be a sad drunk for all of time, now you get to be the First Witness. a gift given to humanity alone, and here I am the jealous Atlantean, immortal, with all the goodies you idiots dream come with it. I watched my world, this world, die and end in fire taking all but forty of my brothers and sisters. Why do I bother, you’ll see. I am called Freyja in case the question went through the organ you unsettlingly call a brain.”  Freyja pulled along Jack remorselessly.

It seemed to Jack that the world was fucking nuts and maybe he had died after all, a woman, maybe a goddess, was dragging him into a house. She stopped at the door however and told him to actually try to open it rather than kick or cry at it. Jack believed nothing and was still processing through all this woman had ranted at him in an either remarkably short time or a fucking eternity, he couldn’t tell. Jack reach out and grasped the door latch and the door swung open like a Friday night whore’s legs. Smooth and not a squeak of the hinges. The inside was bright, but not the one where you are dying, he saw that one in the war and walked away, it was the brightness of a well-lighted room with no furniture or anything really. It was a vast moment before the woman spoke again in tones of awe rather than scorn. “This is the universe Jack, when you go in your will see it. All of it. I only get to See the Now of Everything when I look at this but you will get it all. You can spend eternities drifting and meet amazing things and people. This suits you, as hard as it is for me to say, I guess that is why you are the Suit. A dual meaning, I guess. Enjoy Life, its all there for you and the Others who will follow. The Witnesses will need you and your guidance. You know despair intimately and from that intimacy empathy will be born and flourish.” Jack felt a light shove and looked up at the most dazzling smile he had ever seen, she even had tears in her eyes. They weren’t for him they were for what she could See. Feeling for once of clear of mind and soul Jack walked in fearless of the Future and embraced who he was. Suit straightened his suit jacket, even worn out he wore it proudly, and adjusted his hat with the Press card still stuck in its band and took a last look at Freyja.

“You know, you have a harsh way to you Freyja but I Like it, tell your sister to do my boy good or I will find a way to fuck her world over.” Jack smiled and stepped into the Universe and Opened his mind to everything.


	2. The Eternity of a Constant Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack/Suit must now have his first experience as a Witness.

For a time, Jack saw nothing, then Jack let go of Jack, and Suit saw Everything. His whole experience was one endless moment of Now. Minutes, days, years, millennia, eons, it was all Now. Pasts, Presents, Futures, all of it in one constant singular moment. Suit’s mind and body felt like a force had just ripped apart his molecules while forcing them back together in an impossible mass of insane density.

_What the fuck is that, what the fuck are molecules or density? What the Hell is happening? How do I know any of this?  Why does all of this make sense? Why am I Suit? Oh, that’s right some Atlantean or Goddess or whatever gave me that nickname. Dumb nickname, why can’t I be Superman or something?_

**The Universe is kind yet unforgiving, in being a Witness you must not interfere in events. You are given this privilege Suit, because you are ill-tempered, foul, vulgar, and know a depth of despair many humans will come to know. You will see Tobias, Jane and many others but never touch or speak to them.**

_Great now I have a voice in my head that complains at me worse than I already do. Well Fuck You, and Thank you. No sarcasm on the last bit. Not at all, I should be dead, but Nooooooo, whatever is in my head bitching at me decided it just can’t do without me._ _Got to have me as a Witness. Now I see strangers and giant snakes, cavemen and walking puddles of black stuff. I would say I am going to have nightmares but I’m already in one and I’m being told, Look but don’t Touch. Whatever is speaking in my noodle may be the universe but it certainly has an ego at least twice that size._

**Universes don’t tend to make mistakes Suit, but even this one questions about this choice. Look for your son Suit, Watch him and never know the pain and infirmity of old age. Look and see the creation and death of stars. You can even be inside one, nothing can harm you, you will not hunger or need sleep. After all, for you, no time is passing. which means you’ll never sober up completely either. So be a good drunk and do as this universe says and watch.**

_Got to say I hit the nail on the head with arrogance. Refer to an earlier statement of mine. Fuck You. I would flip you off but I can’t feel my body… or anything really. Oh Fuck, I can’t feel my dick._

**I know you’re interested in Freyja, even if there is no way in any hell she would like you, in any form back, why not peep in on her like the pervert we all know you are. She may even let you see her, this universe strongly doubts it would go further than that, but this universe is not perfect, you came from things this universe began in this cycle, if that doesn’t prove that this universe makes mistakes this universe doesn’t know what will.**

_This universe this, this universe that, why not the simple I or we or whatever else. I don’t know many people who do the third person thing, and none of them do it well, that includes you. You seem to wish to bicker and bitch through eternity rather than just do anything helpful like shutting the hell up. Fucking Christ, if I am doomed to an eternity of you in my head I’m going to kill myself. Wait, that won’t work anymore, Fuck._

**Fine, have it your way, I don’t know why I chose humans to be Witnesses, most of you are violent, vulgar or both. There is a reason, however, that I chose you. Look for yourself. Humor me for once rather than another tiring tirade of fuck you’s and so forth. My patience is infinite but that doesn’t make you any less of an ass. I mean the animal by that, just so you know, I equate you with a beast of burden. Never mind that. I clearly have much less practice insulting others than you do.**

Suit huffed, a miracle being he couldn’t feel any kind of body, and figured why not give the poor universe a break. He focused all his thoughts onto himself, and found only himself. There were literally infinite versions of the universe to examine but he saw only a reflection of the space around where he guessed his presence was. He didn’t have a body after all.

_Why am I the only one? Shouldn’t there be billions of me? Something along those lines._

**You are not confined to the concept of time. Look at the traces of yourself and all those lives, track them from beginning to end and see why I chose you, why I stopped you from dying.**

Suit did so, in every single life he was either pushed to suicide or murdered there was the occasional accidental death but those were the outliers that proved the artificial nature of his extermination. He couldn’t see what was behind it but he could see its effect on those around him. A growing anger, resentment, or vindictiveness, all supported by the promise of fortune and comfort. Greed is an evil he was familiar with but this went far beyond simple greed. It was a place burning hot and icy cold yet absent of any form of life giving light. Suit stared at Darkness and one of it stared back considering, and hungrily. Somehow Suit knew this was the one behind it all, the suicides, the murders, everything. His own little demon chasing him across realities.

Suddenly a world snapped into crystalline clarity around him, even his body, wearing the same suit. He knew it was his home reality. The year was different but somehow felt the same. It was night time in a small town just outside of Grafenwoehr, Germany. How Suit knew this he had no idea. He scratched at his head idly, reveling in the simplicity of the physical sensation. Suit froze seeing motion in the street. Impossibly it was Freyja, strolling on without a care in the world while someone followed her and trying very hard to appear otherwise. Fat chance of that when no other soul was present, excluding himself of course. Still Freyja didn’t seem to notice the follower. Everything seemed to vibrate and was beginning to fall apart into randomness but Suit Felt he had to stay and bent all his will power to that effect and managed to stabilize himself in the reality he was in. Freyja was mere steps away now, and Suit knew this would be his opportunity to speak to her one last time.

_Freyja, thank you. Oh, there is a shifty mother fucker behind you and considering your figure, I doubt it would end with just a mugging._

Freyja stopped just short of walking right through Suit with a look of astonishment on her face. She hadn’t aged a day in however long it had been. She snorted harshly and began a rich laugh, only to stop to speak. “Suit.  Dear Suit. It has been, what, sixty years since I saw you last. Not that I see you now mind you. Should I say you look thin? Is that the joke? Anyways, I would say you look good but that would be a lie. As for the fucker behind me, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed that it isn’t human. Guess I kill it now. Though you being here tells me I Saw true, I will die here. You are my Witness.” Freyja said the last sentence like a gentle caress, reserved for intimates and close confidants.

Suit looked more closely at the stalker and felt ice in veins that no longer functioned. It was the same one. the piece of Darkness that had been responsible for all his deaths. It was wearing human skin like clothing with clothing just being extra layers. It reacted to his fear by looking directly at him as it slowly closed the distance on Freyja. What should have been a face was instead a sagging parody, like someone had removed the bones and filled it only part of the way with sand. Mouth hung agape as if waiting to either feed or scream and eyes drooped disconcertingly uneven. Something clicked in Suit’s brain, he knew this skin that Darkness was wearing. It was of his former boss at the Sun Times. The face attempted to shiver into an approximation of a smile. It knew he would recognize it. This thing had a vendetta that even time couldn’t set aside.

_Freyja, run, you can’t fight that thing. Yeah, it ain’t human_ _and well technically you ain’t either but I think you’re outclassed here. Hell, I’m outclassed here, I want to shit myself even though I’m certain it can’t do anything to me._

Freyja just smiled, sadly, but a smile all the same. “If I run, I will lead it to where it will do harm to one whom I love as a daughter, I was hoping to see her and have her know me before the end. It seems that it is not to be. Watch over her, and not as you are watching me, be her guardian and warn her as you have me when it comes time for her to face this thing or one like it. Suit,“ Freyja grew very still, a calming breath flowed in and out and everything grew still as if trapped in ice. “you don’t remember the first night we met, you were drunk of course, it was within a day of you getting back from the second world war. I loved you then, and love you now. I wish fate hadn’t been so cruel as to show me that same night what would happen if I followed my heart. Let’s just say the world gets the shit end of the deal, but we die happy and in love. Your son is never born, nor does the daughter I cared for survive infancy. The world becomes dark because I was selfish. My anger the night you became a Witness was never at you. It was at this indifferent and callous world we cling to for dear life. Suit. No, Jack, I ask you as the man you were, on the brink of despair and death, make the world better, make it brighter. You are one of the few who can make that a reality. Now, I die, but not without a fight and not without causing a fuck load of pain.” Freyja turned to face the Darkness, alone.

Suit could feel the air grow chill and then downright frigid. While it didn’t affect him personally, he could see the hesitation in the creature. It was easily subzero temperatures now and the thing under his boss’ skin writhed as if in extreme discomfort. That didn’t stop it from closing the last few paces. It was obvious that it at least felt the discomfort of the cold if not pain. Suit wished it could feel pain. He wanted it to hurt, not just for all the versions of him that died because of it, but for what Freyja knew would be the outcome. She moved, and lightning couldn’t have been faster, closing on the Darkness. Clothes and skin went flying as Darkness expanded itself into a sheet, abandoning its human disguise, to try to engulf or wrap Freyja in a deadly embrace. Freyja evaded the Darkness with ease as she slipped to the side. Darkness writhed and began to flow after her, taking a human like appearance except for the overly long whip like arms that dragged on the ground as its body shifted forward continuing its pursuit. Freyja smiled broadly and closed the distance herself. The whip arms reached out to bind Freyja but she snatched them with her hands in mid motion and yanked on them brutally, bringing Darkness to her, as she delivered a vicious kick to, on a person, its midsection as she released the arms of Darkness.

It was flung back, but it seemed a small distance for such a powerful kick. Suit had felt just the faintest portion of Freyja’s strength, and she had handled him like a gorilla handling a gerbil. Whatever Darkness was made of, it was heavy. Darkness shuddered in what appeared to be agony or intense pleasure. Undaunted it closed again somehow moving without using its legs in an effortless glide across asphalt. Freyja stood waiting a cast of calmness over her features. Suit’s heart pounded in a chest that didn’t really function.

_So, this is the moment, she will have her life extinguished and there is nothing to be done. Seeress and Reader of Fates, doomed to abandon a love to save a world. To raise a daughter who will never know her. Remembered by history as a myth that was never real. Fate has been calloused toward her, even if it was also kind._

Freyja stood passively watching it come, and come it did. It stopped just beyond the reach of Freyja’s legs. A striking Snake would have been jealous of the speed with which it wrapped its arms about her shoulders and legs, keeping her still. Darkness stretched its neck forward. Keeping its body away as its head floated forward on an elongating neck to pause in front of her passive face. Suit guessed it was feeling confident as its body slid forward to stop almost chest to chest. The neck was still elongated and bent at a sickening level and the head opened up, wrapping itself around Freyja’s head. It was almost intimate in a vomit inducing way. Which only made Suit’s blood boil. Suit discovered he loved her too, her biting and caustic anger, her calm devotion, her fiery passion, the selflessness. They could have made each other great. At the expense of the world. Jack didn’t care, but Suit did. Freyja’s fists lashed up suddenly, ramming themselves inside Darkness. It heaved in agony, writhing in an attempt to pull itself away from Freyja’s impaling limbs. Its head still enclosed Freyja’s own, as it refused to lose its prey entirely. It was clearly banking on the belief it could kill her before she killed it. Jack felt an indescribable pull to action, the part of him that was still thinking like Suit was trying to warn him off.

Jack didn’t listen. Rage flooded his entire body and for a time he became as Nature. Moving quickly, he stepped behind Darkness and rammed his own fists into it, seeking Freyja’s hands. Jack held Freyja’s hands while a shriek pierced realities, heedless of any danger. It didn’t occur to Jack that if he touched it, it touched him. Blinding agony spread from his arms to his whole body in a flash of incandescent pain. Sight fled Jack for a brief moment before he saw again, through Darkness’ vision. A ship in the stars made of glass, dim and dark, filled with bodies. Endless repetitions of Darkness hunting and killing Jack. Feeding of Freyja. Consuming Jack’s boss. Hunting a man in a cave and chewing off his hand. Visions of grizzly deaths and worse continued to flood his brain, then came the worst. Jack saved Freyja, Jack saved Tobias, Jack saved Elisa, Jack became Darkness. Horror supplanted pain in that one instant of realization. Darkness were Witnesses that got involved and corrupted themselves. He didn’t know how this was possible but the evidence was clear. This one of Darkness was the version of him that saved people, only to Fall.

Jack let go of the rage and calmed himself. He became Suit once again. Somehow nothing had occurred while he had been incapacitated by the pain and visions. Darkness shivered and still shrieked but then seemed to melt to the ground forming a puddle that oozed away to a storm drain to flee what it assumed was imminent death. Freyja and Suit collapsed as one and Suit passed cleanly through Freyja on the way down. They formed an X where they lay on the road. Suit spoke up after a time. “I guess X marks the spot after all. It just marked where I got inside you.”

Freyja laughed weakly, gasping for breath before responding. “It’s the one and only time you ever will, and I don’t even feel anything.”

Suit laughed as well. Her time was ending, even he couldn’t avert her fate in this reality. “Liar, you know it feels good.” Suit abandoned joviality for seriousness. “I love you Freyja, to see you go should mark my death as well.” Suit turned his head to see Freyja staring at him. “What, do I got something on my face?”

Freyja looked at Suit thoughtfully. “You know, you are an ugly beautiful. I can see the tears you have for me but you will never shed them. You will keep them locked in your heart and shut everyone away becoming a cold and dispassionate Witness as death and Darkness consume all around you. You don’t need to suffer Suit. Let it go, cry, rail, and find your heart before you lose it.”

Suit couldn’t keep back the pain of seeing a woman he loved die. He couldn’t hold back on her last request. Tears flowed freely down his face. He hated crying, he was mocked by his father and his friends as a child. Crying was for girls and women who didn’t know their place in the world. That’s how they saw it and how he saw it as he grew into a man in the shadow of a world war. Only to fight in another one a short time later.

Freyja smiled weakly. “You are a beautiful crier Suit; your honesty and feelings paint your face when you cry.”

“I only do this for you, I didn’t cry when my mother died and certainly didn’t when my father died. I cry now for you and for a love never realized. Talk about star crossed huh?” Suit sighed and sniffled a bit, wishing he had a handkerchief.

“Suit, this body dies, but I don’t. I will be around forever, always going forward. I can’t experience what you do, I just Live. Eventually my energy will coalesce into a semi physical spirit body.” A grin spread over Freyja’s face. “I made you cry, you vulgar little prick.”

Suit knew she was playing with him but it still hurt that he had treated her poorly when he usually prided himself on being a gentleman. Then he felt the shame of all the times he had beaten Jane after coming home drunk, especially the time he had beaten Tobias for standing up to him for his mother. He would be a great man. Hell, probably is one considering its sixty years different from when I was last here. “My shame goes deep Freyja. I was a good man, War killed him and put me in his place. A broken man, and a sad one.”

Freyja’s expression was filled with sympathy as she smiled. “Pussy, where is the vulgar ass I knew? You aren’t broken, just scuffed up and bent at the edges.” Freyja’s hair shifted colors from a golden moonlight shade to a fiery red which would make burnish copper seem dim. “Shit, there goes my hair. I know how you love blondes. It astounded me when you got with a brunette. Look how a girl changes herself to chase after a man. you guys don’t do shit and assume women will fawn after you all the same.”

“I love your hair, and the blond thing was a phase. The whole supposed master race thing ruined that for me. How long have you been watching me? Stalker. Got to say though, a Superwoman who was blond and we’re in Germany, there has to be a certain bit of irony there.” Suit felt energy come back to him flooding into impermanent limbs. He reached out and tried to caress Freyja’s face but he felt nothing and neither did she even though she tried to lean her face into his touch, she was blushing.

A light burst forth furiously from Freyja’s body and she vanished. Suit could hear a whisper of “I Love You” but he felt it was just his imagination. Tears fell freely once more and he heard “pussy”, that wasn’t his head. Suit smiled, a guardian angel has a guardian angel or a guardian bitch it seems. The world collapsed around him, losing it crystalline clarity, into a white singularity. The space where Everything happens.

Suit made a decision, he couldn’t act or risk becoming Darkness, but he could speak. Time was nothing to him, he needed to learn to be as present and focused as he was with Freyja and somehow not cut himself off from events as a whole. Impossible tasks, here we go.

_OH, Shit, I got to find other Witnesses too, I would say where would I find the time but that’s not really my problem is it?_

**No, it certainly isn’t, Suit. Welcome back.**


	3. Laytesh the Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laytesh decides to honor a missing friend's memory by exploring an ancient mine. Nothing bad could happen, right?

Laytesh felt a quiver of energy staring into the open maw of the mine entrance. a breeze carrying a smell of rotting things and mildew almost made him turn and flee. it was an ancient mine, well before Western settlers had come and claimed the cascade ranges for themselves. they improved on it finding many things, bones, artifacts, metals. eventually miners started disappearing one after another until no one wanted to deal with it or work it. eventually being lost to history once more. a good friend from work clued him in on this site having lived in this area and hiked it his whole life. Laytesh kneeled and set his rucksack on the ground to check his equipment before going in. flares and chemlights aplenty, handheld and helmet mounted flashlights, military mre packs for a week of eating well, his P90 with 10 magazines full of ammunition and a .45 caliber pistol with 2 mags. bears were extremely common and aggressive out here but they were often smaller. he quickly mounted the helmet flashlight to his helmet. everything placed back into the ruck Laytesh stared into the throat of the cave feeling the chill air sweep by. cold rippled along his skin, more so than the air accounted for. He shook his head hard clearing the fear with a laugh. I didn’t survive the riots and revolution in Cairo to chicken out here, he thought. after all he was here to hike one last time for his friend who had gone missing. Jared better look out for me, we were supposed to do this together. with one last look at the pristine blue sky, the sun barely peaking past the evergreens, he walked into the maw and was swallowed by darkness.

 

According to his watch he had only been down here three hours. Laytesh was absolutely certain his watch was lying. it had been days if not weeks down here. He had seen many different materials, metals, and ancient pottery. he must have been at least a mile underground by now. stopping briefly he popped a flare and cracked a chemlight. just another bit of repetition he did every hundred steps or so. Laytesh began to walk forward once more in search of the mines furthest depth. he turned quickly when he felt a tingle in his spine and the shadows danced in his headlamp's light. his pulse was already accelerating. this instinct had saved him many times in the revolution, but this mine was throwing everything out the window. too many horror movies he guessed. the feeling of eyes on him persisted though nothing was there. the hairs on his neck stood up as he turned back and started back down the mine. he could swear he heard the sound of frying bacon, just like now. this mine is devouring my sanity he thought with irritation. With a vexed curse he stayed the course and continued to venture deeper.

 

Sometime later he cracked another chemlight and flare and glanced at his watch, right around the seven-hour mark. the tunnel was narrow here barely wide enough to walk normally. prying a mre and the handheld light from his ruck he moved down the tunnel from the sputtering flare. peeling away the ruck from his sweaty back he sat down roughly with his back against the wall clicking on the handheld light and laying it down pointing deeper into the mine. He dug into his meal with abandon, not the tastiest of meals but filling all the same. he could swear he heard a sound like bacon sizzling again but dismissed it as a delusion of having to settle for military rations. Having stuffed down the questionable meal at last he sat forward to clean up. out of the corner of his vision he noticed a shadow behind his flare. his heart leaped as if shocked by a defibrillator panel. breathing rapidly, he lunged for the flashlight, rolling away from the flare, and came up in a kneeling position with flashlight and pistol pointing back toward the shadow. all he saw was a black wall of rock that couldn’t be there. it glistened wetly in the light of the flare and flashlight which had lent a red and yellow cast that seemed rather hellish and sinister. His instincts cried for him to run away, that death was near. unnerved by the wall that couldn’t be there and his intuition saying run, he holstered his pistol back behind him and kept the light on the wall. Laytesh dashed for the ruck and nabbed it and fled down the tunnel at a dead sprint turning the first corner in sight he slid to a stop and placed the straps over his shoulders and listened for any form of pursuit. upon waiting for an eternity of listening he poked his head back the way he ran looking for the light of the flare. instead there was only darkness staring back. It seemed physical to Laytesh as if the wall had followed him. he waggled his flashlight as it pointed further down the tunnel as if he had resumed running. watching the darkness closely for movement he noticed a ripple within it. stepping around the corner into full view he shined the flashlight down the tunnel he had come from. what he saw sent frozen oxygen into his blood. a figure that was man shaped stood there silently yet it was completely black, no features, no hands or feet, just a mass of glistening black that tried to look human. Laytesh yanked the pistol from its holster pointing it at the dark shape. it swayed as if pondering the human before it, just before gliding forward smoothly and without fear. in the back of his mind Laytesh noticed it took no steps, the things legs didn’t move. finally shaking free of the paralyzing fear, he fired his pistol. the thing seemed to laugh with a rasping cackle like rock crumbling to dust. the creature didn’t turn it just glided sideways and disappeared. Laytesh stared blankly for a moment before he realized he heard the sound of bacon cooking. too scared for thought he turned and fled deeper into the mine. he ran for what felt like days or weeks. slowly the careful tunnels of the mine gave way to natural tunnels that broadened out giving him more space to run freely and feel less closed in. finally he stopped his frantic flight in a small natural cavern the size of a small room. he was soaked through with sweat, breathing deeply in harsh gasps. he forced himself to check the surrounding room which seemed odd to him somehow but he couldn’t place it. his legs finally collapsed and he sat down hard against the stone floor using his ruck as a backrest. he managed to glance at his watch and see that he had somehow run for sixteen hours before passing out, fear jerked him back awake instantly. Shrugging off his ruck carefully he stood slowly feeling tightness in every part of his body. he bent and retrieved his flashlight which had rolled away when he passed out and began to look at the cavern more closely. first thing he noticed was the floor was completely smooth as if the stone had melted and then frozen in perfect stillness. second was that while the walls seemed natural they looked crafted to be so, as if a human mind had shaped it. lastly was a perfectly cut rectangular entry or exit and to the right, words written in darkness " I Know you are Here at the Door to my Home" below that was a list of names: Steve, Carl, Feld, Hyram, Tanner, Vaughn, Ulysses, Grant. These names too were written in darkness thickly as if printed in a flowing script like cursive yet far more elegant yet still simple. approaching the writing while staying out of easy sight of the open stone frame he examined the writing closely running his hand over it. where the lettering began it seemed as if nothing existed the edges were sharp as a blade and smooth as glass as if melted or sanded down a hundred thousand times over millennia. Laytesh began to feel incredibly tired, and a desire to sleep crept into his bones, a sense of alarm rang in the back of his mind but he was unable to fight the weariness of his body. he managed to stumble to his ruck and drag it to a corner of the cavern. he popped six flares and scattered them haphazardly around the room before falling asleep across his ruck with his legs sprawled out behind him.

 

He woke up to a feeling of tugging at his feet. upon realizing what that meant he shot awake instantly trying to flip onto his back but found his feet anchored in place leaving him only able to get on his hip. he looked around seeing nothing but the light of the flares when he realized with ascending horror that his feet were covered in darkness and he was hearing a steady rasp as the darkness shivered and squirmed like liquid night. unable to contain his fear he shrieked high and loud the echo of it beating at his eardrums. distantly he noted the darkness ripple in an unpleasant and sickening way as if it had swallowed something unpalatable. suddenly pain was all that existed for Laytesh. his feet felt like thousands of tiny teeth were scraping his skin right off the bone. screaming even higher he tried to beat at the darkness with his hand only to quickly have it too ensnared. he tried to throw himself back while thrashing madly to try and escape in some way instead the darkness held him mercilessly in its grasp and the rasping and sucking sensation began in his hand as it began to pull his arm into its embrace with glacial slowness. frantic Laytesh pulled the pistol free from the holster in his off hand and placed the barrel next to the darkness as it seemed to glisten even more wetly than before seeming almost glossy or reflective like glass. Giving one last shriek of desperation he fired the pistol over and over again. it seemed to do nothing at all but the creature rippled in obvious displeasure and began to creep off of him and sink into the stone at his feet. as the creature crept its way off his arm it stopped for a brief moment and he heard a sickening crunch and a wet snicking noise and screamed in fresh agony and kept on shooting not realizing that he had emptied the magazine to no obvious effect. the creature jerked away swiftly and released his feet. it sank into the stone making a crunching sound as it rippled lazily in contentment. feeling a sudden sickening sensation, he noticed his boots were gone and his feet scraped clean of skin leaving bare muscle and bone that looked chewed upon. his attention went then to his hand which still felt in agony but distantly. it was no longer there. he kept staring feeling like vomiting even as he watched blood pour freely from a clean-cut stump with the skin around it ragged and frayed. screaming silently, he vomited over himself, he could still feel the agony in his hand, still hear the crunching of the creature hiding in the stone. crawling away to the other side of the ruck he could tell he was in shock and that he had to do something to stop the bleeding. thinking quickly, he got a flare out and popped it against the stone flooring. steeling himself he pressed the burning end against the raw stump. a silent scream lingered like a ghost and the smell of charred flesh and hair. the smell alone made him vomit all over again. his vision was hazy and fogged with pain and shock. his mind barely registered that something sinuous was creeping toward him. fear brought with it clarity as he realized the only thing it could be. Darkness. it was feeling its way along the blood trail he had left behind in his effort to get away, meager as it was. anger flooded him as he realized the creature was searching for him with a clear hand shape much like his and he realized that it must be his or a copy of it, it didn’t have one when this mad flight began. such anger filled him he grabbed the pistol from the ground and threw it hitting the creature squarely on the back of its hand. instead of recoiling it flowed around it like liquid reshaping the hand around the grip and pointing the pistol back at him, it pulled the trigger making a snapping click as it was out of rounds. Laytesh still flinched as hot blood immediately turned to ice. it tossed the pistol aside after trying to shoot him a few more times then resumed what he now saw to be soaking up his blood. Fury returned to him movement and strength he dug into his pack and pulled out his last Flare and popped it as he slowly stood upon bloody agonized feet. he had fought for the freedom of his people and was now fighting for survival, he stood tall in his agony over the crawling darkness as it sought him unafraid. he held the flare like a sword of light and shuffled in pained steps toward Darkness. it reared up like a cobra, its hand at the level of Laytesh’s head, and started reaching and grasping for him quick as the snake it resembled. timing it carefully he lunged with the flare extended searing the darkness and smelling a foul rot like a mountain of dead was unburied to plague his senses. a shriek that tried to make his skin ripple like the Darkness filled the small cavern and echoed harshly almost rendering him unconscious. knowing that would mean death Laytesh fought viciously the darkness creeping in his vision and mind. he kept the flare in contact with the Darkness and followed it as it shrank back into the stone leaving behind a hole as it fled the burning light. Laytesh dropped the flare down the hole it had come from and stood panting with pain and exertion. A voice in Laytesh’s mind called him toward the doorway. he knew it was not an imagined thing, not that he could say how he knew. It called him Survivor. he felt a deep trust in this voice and shambled to the doorway that was shrouded in a white mist now that seemed to glow softly from within. It beckoned him again. his thoughts were trusting but his heart was suspicious. still he decided to go, after all dead if he didn’t and who knows what else if he did, he chose possibility over certainty, life over death, and walked into the shimmering mist. no sooner had he passed the stone door he found himself in a large room that seemed to have light coming softly from every direction yet none at all. the only furnishings were a desk and a bed with a solitary chair all seemingly made of spun glass both clear and white in striated patterns that visibly shifted as he watched. He was suddenly aware he felt no pain and he couldn’t hear the voice any longer. he blinked slowly and a figure appeared in front of him beside the bed. she was astoundingly beautiful in a flowing white dress that seemed to shift itself to cling to her in different ways, sometimes skin tight and revealing and others loose and flowing like a spring breeze. her hair was a burnished silver with thin streaks of vivid red gold copper. she turned and fixed her gaze upon him, her eyes were the color of stars, silver blue and yellow. she seemed to look into Laytesh, into his heart and soul. "Survivor, i would heal you if it is your desire. you have been my only company since the Ships of Glass left earth to seed the stars with life. what you see is my prison, my crime was to be kind to the new life called humanity. we are as you will become and as who you were before things like Darkness came to your world. lie upon my bed Survivor before you fall and bleed to death, I may have stopped your pain but not your heart." giving a silent short laugh he almost argued if not for the pounding heart in his chest to give a lie to that statement. she was more beautiful than the night sky. He walked forward stately but with nervous energy and laid himself down swiftly, after all who argues with a beautiful woman who tells you to get into her bed. She fetched the chair and sat beside him, resting her hands on his chest. suddenly another figure was there. Laytesh laid there in shock, it was Jared. "hey there friend, lucky dog is what i should say. look at you in Laicorra's bed. I don’t have long and this is hard as fuck, just know I’m looking out for you Laytesh the Survivor." with that he was gone from sight, he laid there with his mouth open in wonderment. "he seems nice. obviously, a friend of yours, kind of cute too. I wonder how he got in or knew my name. unfortunately, Survivor this is going to be painful, very, very painful." the universe went white with agony and black with despair as Laytesh was convinced he was dying. suddenly the room was back. looking around he noticed Laicorra was still beside him, as he watched the dress tightened and became so form fitting it may as well have been skin, he looked away quickly cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Laicorra laughed, it was a silver sound rich and pure in tone. "i have a request of you Laytesh, find the only one of my people left on this world. I know he escaped Atlantis's destruction as well as the Darkness that came here after. Find Kerric for me, only he can release me from this prison. Do this for me before you join your friend."

 Laytesh sat up staring in wonder at a hand that couldn’t be there. "I will repay your kindness in saving me. I would have done whatever you asked but finding someone I will do with pleasure." he paused briefly considering. "Why do you call me Survivor?"

 

Laicorra smiled. "I call you Survivor because you are a Witness my sweet human. You will know wonders even my people never dreamed, for we were never Chosen to Witness. Instead We were chosen to Live. now sleep and when you will wake the only time that will have passed will be the time you spent in the bones of the earth"

 

Feeling sleepy Laytesh smiled back. "Many thanks, alsalam ealaykum."

 

Laicorra brushed a hand upon his cheek faintly. "Qad yakun ladayk salam kdhlk, Laytesh"


	4. Origin/A Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Laytesh came to America and the beginning of his hunt for the Atlantean Kerrick.

Laytesh had only one idea how to begin in finding a being millions of years old who had no desire to be found. Its’ name was T.C., a living phantom. Laytesh had seen his or her handiwork during the rebellion in Egypt. Entire compounds of armed men silenced without a sound. convoys attacked in the desert with only a single survivor to tell tales of ghosts who vanished in between fountains of blood and fallen comrades.

One night just before he had left for America he received a visit from these apparitions, as he was packing his bag to leave. He only saw the one but he felt the presence of others poised to strike him down if thing went awry. This man stood before him with the confident ease of a man used to controlling all around him by the mere virtue of his presence. This man was a born killer, a blade forged for no other purpose but death. the man never spoke just watched Laytesh with curiosity, clearly anticipating a response of some kind. Laytesh, while scared shitless, would not gratify this ghoul by showing his fear overtly. He sat down casually on the bed with a mask of nonchalance over his features and body language. A portion of his mind noticed the black veil and the strangely patterned brown and tan uniform he wore, clearly not of any military pattern Laytesh had ever seen. Uncaring for the growing feeling of imminent death as he reached casually for the lighter in his pocket and American style cigarettes in his bag, they both knew the spirit/man was in control here but Laytesh would be damned before letting it seem he was cowed into submission. Laytesh light the cigarette and drew a deep puff before offering it to this Harbinger before him. Laytesh got the impression of a smile but the response was a shake of the head. Laytesh puffed again contentedly, drawing out the moment, before speaking the first words of the whole encounter. “I hope you will pay for my flight if I am late or split the cost with the men you have here. Before that however, spirits don’t often visit the living without purpose I wish you would get to that rather than the theatrics.” By the end Laytesh spoke coldly but otherwise maintained perfect English. The man Laytesh was increasingly certain was American bowed his head to acknowledge his point and moved swiftly to produce a pen and a sheet of paper. He wrote a note quickly and handed it to Laytesh while making the pen vanish into a sleeve, followed quickly by an appearing knife from the same sleeve. _Does he have a rabbit up there too?_ Laytesh thought as he painted a smile for the knife and forced himself to ignore it while he read the note.

 

               Laytesh, my men and I have greatly valued your work in the freedom of your people. From one professional to another you have my respect. If you need ANYTHING, let me know by sticking this note in a book called the art of war by sun tzu, I’m sure you know it, in the city library at Killian in California or Justice in West Virginia. One of us will respond within twenty-four hours and meet face to face with you. We will supply you with anything you request on any endeavor. I only ask you tell us what the task is and if we need YOUR assistance you respond in kind. this pact I seal in my blood. Careful, I’m coming with that knife now.

               T.C.

Laytesh looked up sharply at the end of the note to see the man hovering over him without sound as he placed the knife to his own index finger and sliced deeply and then drawing a thick line of blood over the message. While Laytesh sat wondering why the man vanished right before his eyes. he felt the room empty of all human presence and danger but for his own startled breathing _. Maybe Spirits and Djinn are all real after all._ Laytesh snorted to himself. _The fact he bled was an admission of being human and an apology for the theatrics. Though his humor needed improvement._ Glancing at his watch he realized no more than five minutes had passed in the eternity of that meeting. The watch was clearly lying. Laytesh ashed and extinguished the cigarette in his ashtray and set to packing his bags quickly. Clearly the polite ghost hadn’t kept him from his flight after all.

 

Laytesh opened his eyes from the memory to glance up at the unimpressive edifice of the Kilian City library. where he knew he would find the Art of War and a way to resume the hunt that began by an idiotic journey into a cavern. Laytesh strode inside feeling eyes upon him, not the eyes of the Ghoul’s men but the eyes of those who sought to stop his hunt, kill him if necessary. Laytesh grinned deeply, he relished the challenge of those eyes and opened the door to his final hunt.

Inside looked even more ramshackle than the outside, even the poor places of Egypt would be ashamed of this place. The smell of mildew and mold was the first thing to assault his senses. the second was the sight of it. the entire library looked to be in a perpetual state of chaos, books were scattered everywhere and set haphazardly upon the shelves if on shelves at all. Bags of chips in several states of consumption littered the tables along with a collection of the energy drinks Americans were so fond of, even Jared. Laytesh was still struggling with the fact that his friend wasn’t missing or dead but in fact was now everywhere, maybe even watching Laytesh specifically. He felt a presence nearby and assumed it must be the unfortunate soul who worked this version of hell. Laytesh found the person quickly, she was on the short side with short hair and piercing blue eyes, clearly still young maybe just having started college, she glanced up at him before returning to her half-hearted attempt at straightening shelves. “Do you need help finding anything?” She said, though it seemed a bit weary, as if she was enduring a heavy burden. These Americans knew nothing of hardship if they thought putting books in order on a shelf was a herculean task. Laytesh watched her briefly before responding, “Yes, I am looking for a book called the Art of War by Sun Tzu. I only need to see it quickly, not check it out.” He had noticed her flinch when he said the title, a stiffening of either worry or curiosity, he frowned thoughtfully. _Does the girl know something?_ His intuition shouted she did and generally he listened to it, he began to open his mouth to say something when she interrupted him by turning to face him with a sharpness that belied her docile book handling. Her eyes were alive with curiosity unspoken as she said “I can take you to it immediately, someone placed it on hold here not to long ago, I guess you are Mr. Laytesh correct?” She turned quickly and started walking without even waiting for the nod he gave. the girl was a beauty, very fit and lithe, clearly used to not being pent up in a building. Probably an athlete, all in all still too young for him personally, he thought briefly of Laicorra and his promised aid. Following her he found himself near the entrance next to a reading stand, there it was, The Art of War.

Glass doors shattered as they were forced open brutally by three men wearing all black. Laytesh’s first thought was these were the eyes he felt but was dismissed even as he heard them speak in unison. “Grab her, if we have her, She will come, yes She will come and be ours, our toy our meal, GIVE HER TO US, THEY ARE OURS WE HAD THEM AND HE STOLE THEM, GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE.”

These men repeated the word in endless shrieks as they closed on the young girl. Amazingly she didn’t look terrified just ready to kill. Laytesh approved, clearly more experience than he gave her credit for. All the noise and distraction didn’t stop the motion of his hand, faster than a striking cobra it found the concealed 1911 pistol and withdrew it between heartbeats. To Laytesh the world seemed as if trapped in quicksand, he brought the pistol in line with the first charging man’s knee and fired once, watching blood and bone erupt from it, the man fell with words unchanging as he tried to crawl. the other two died with bullets through their heads. One from Laytesh and one from the girl. She looked faintly ill with the death on her hands. Such things are normal, humans don’t like killing humans even if they don’t act like humans. The world snapped back into real time and Laytesh could hear the shrieking word being said as the man he wounded tried to alternately stand and crawl his way to the girl. Laytesh walked over to the man as he tried to stand once more and viciously kicked the leg out from under him before stepping on the devastated knee with bone crunching force. The man didn’t react to him, just kept trying to crawl as horror dawned on the young woman’s face. She knew a terror as deep as his when he faced the thing of Darkness. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. _What have you gone through child to warrant such fear?_ The man stopped suddenly, voice changing in aspect completely, becoming more sibilant and deep. “You interfere Witness, I can smell others of your kind in this. This girl is mine by Right of the Hunt. Witnesses cannot interfere. Before this thing dies he will bring her to me, release it.” The man never looked once at Laytesh instead staring solely at the woman in front of it with a stillness that couldn’t be done by a human. The girl dropped her pistol, hands shaking hard as tears broke from her eyes and she shriveled back from the man with the voice of something evil. Sobs exploded from her as she collapsed into a ball on the floor. “Daddy said it died, I saw it die, this can’t be real.” She continued to mutter that it can’t be real. Laytesh grew furious with this thing as it began a hissing laugh. “STAND UP, CHILD. This thing before you is crippled and dying. Come and see its end.” He had started at a roar mightier than a lion but ended as soft as a lullaby sung for a scared infant.  The girl stared at Laytesh now, eyes colored red and face streaked with tears, instead of fear painting her features they now assumed a cast of readiness and the promise of Death.  Her body moved rigidly as if forcing every motion by sheer bloody minded will and stood next to Laytesh, the thing turning its head to keep its eyes upon her. As she stood next to him its eyes flicked to Laytesh briefly with a smile of derision crossing its features. Then it spoke again, “I Smell Fear in you too Witness, you fear me.” Laytesh laughed gently almost with genuine humor before responding, “yes I fear, my fear shaped my action and now you are powerless here, I may still fear as this girl does but I have tamed my fear long ago, even that was challenged recently but I still live. Now girl, take my pistol and let this creature to be judged.” Matching action to words he proffered her his Springfield 1911. “In this place you need to be the final arbiter, death or absolution? Execute your will child and master your fears.” She took the pistol with a silent nod of acceptance. Laytesh could see her register the weight of it in her hand as she sighted down on the things head. she took a deep breath and exhaled softly, her trembling hand stilling briefly just before pulling the trigger. The thing’s head disintegrated under the impact of the slug as it traveled through heedless of any resistance to bed itself in the wooden floor. For a moment she stood there, not in shock, but waiting to see if it had really died. Laytesh could feel from her that this wasn’t over but was at a pause with this things death. The girl shivered violently before handing the pistol back to Laytesh and spoke while he made it vanish back into its concealed holster. “I know you have one of those notes from Daddy, just hand it to me and he will know personally in about two minutes. it will save time that way instead of me pretending to not notice as you slip the note in and walk away. Will you stay and eat while I wait for Daddy to get back to you? I don’t have much to snack on, not that I feel like eating right now, but I got Cheetos and an Amp in the fridge.”

Laytesh couldn’t help the rich laugh that escaped him, he liked this child, she had spunk. “I will sit and dine with you, but you should at least have water, it is good for you. All this note has to name your Daddy is T.C., may I ask his name?”

“Couldn’t hurt as I see it, being as you’ll be meeting him shortly, it’s Tobias Cairn. Maybe he will even talk to you this time." A phantom of a smile appeared on her face and her eyes hazed as if in memory. "Oh, and don’t go getting any ideas about me, i mean thanks and all for, you know saving my ass, but you have no idea how not my type you are."

A stunned Laytesh just stared a moment before shaking his head and chuckling richly. "Girl, I don’t even want to know your name, we are just a tiny exchange in, what i am coming to believe, events that will swallow this world. If you must call me something, call me Survivor."

"What, like the show? Seriously?"

"is it an American trait or yours to simply ruin moments of importance with trivialities?" Laytesh sighed heavily. His hand flashed to his pistol once more as he heard crunching glass, he swiveled to face the shattered doors to see a man striding in but froze mid motion as familiarity tickled his mind. He knew this man. The man had no eyes for the bodies or even Laytesh himself just for the girl.

"It an exceedingly American trait but it seems distilled and strengthened in my daughters. We meet face to face at last Survivor. I am Tobias Cairn." Tobias reached his daughter and hugged her tenderly while offering his hand to Laytesh. "Welcome to America, I Hear you have had one hell of a time."

Laytesh took Tobias' hand firmly in his own. "I would say you have no idea but I don’t underestimate ghosts and djinn." Tobias had black hair like his daughter and the same piercing blue if a bit darker in shade. He was a tall man, easily topping six feet by a healthy margin, and while clearly muscular he was lean not bulky. This man was a blade, a weapon, with no other calling but the kill. Laytesh felt a chill in his bones, even Anubis would run from this man.

Tobias' eyes grew sharp as he looked at Laytesh. "Smart bet, I have seen what’s in the mine Laytesh. You are not the only one on a hunt, even if mine is different than yours. Not too long ago something abducted my daughters and tried to kill them, I took offence and now it’s dead." His daughter stiffened in his embrace and he turned his head to look into her eyes.

"It’s not dead Daddy, somehow it’s not dead," Her voice shook at first but grew steadier as she continued. "It came here, thinking TV Guy wouldn’t do anything, it said his kind couldn’t interfere. Then he handed me his gun and I shot it in its Fucking face." Fury had taken over in the last few words and she shook now with rage.

Tobias' eyes softened slightly as he looked back at Laytesh. "I saw it all, I really hate mysteries, but this is getting out of control. this creature can now use us like sock puppets, it couldn’t do that before only hypnotize. Survivor, I may need your help with my hunt someday but let’s get you fitted out and on your own hunt, but first I am game for those Cheetos and Amp too. let’s go"

Tobias turned and walked to the back area a protective arm around his daughter's shoulders clearly expecting Laytesh to follow. The creature let out a long hiss at his feet suddenly, it was lilting and almost a laugh, impossibly it spoke, "I see now, you will be one but are not one yet, the bitch sent you on a quest to find our father." the ruined face turned up to look at Laytesh and smiled. Laytesh was not amused, he raised his leg and brought it down with all the wrath of Egypt in his blood. A shattered bloody pulp was all that remained as Laytesh walked away, idly wondering if they had a boot wash room.


	5. To Deal with Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth must learn the costs of undoing a mistake. All while something else pulls the strings.

Truth stood passive as he watched the entrance to a country home in Endeavor, Ohio. It belonged to a man he had met briefly once at a bar in Athens Greece. In a fit of shame, he remembered that evening, smoke and dancers flailing and mingling together like oil and water, touching but not mixing, rather sliding along and between. A man, Lucius Kines, stared blankly into an empty shot glass as if his concentration would fill it with his poison of choice. Smoke and dancers parted before him, the lies inherent to them repulsing them subconsciously due to his Nature. Truth remembered laying a hand upon Lucius’ shoulder, the man never stirred to see who just muttered that he had nor owned anything but a space in the gutter to die. Truth took pity and in an uncommon fit of spoken word told Lucius to be himself in anything he did. Truth being new to being Truth didn’t realize he had just made a horrid mistake. He didn’t look inside, he assumed, that this was a good man who had fallen on hard times. The truth he would discover was in fact disgusting and dark. The man was an Evil made flesh. It took five years for Truth to stumble into an article about a murder of a pilot in Greece who had somehow managed to make and fly his flight back to the United States. His Nature told him this was a thing of his, a work he had touched. So, Truth let his mind touch eternity, searching for this person who had so direct a connection to him. It took twenty-nine years in such a state to find him. It was a bloody trail. The man ate lives like a starving man devours food. Taking each one and for a brief time becoming the one he killed. Always someone alone with little connection to others, though not before torturing every detail of every facet of their life from them. Followed by carving chunks of flesh from his captive eating them as the bled and shrieked their way into Death’s arms. Eventually he became more centered on eating over a longer period of time stopping their bleeding and, even worse, stopping when they passed out from pain or shock. Some were brave enough to bite through their tongues in an effort to speed Deaths embrace.

The horrors that bludgeoned Truth subsided and he opened eyes he didn’t remember closing. It isn’t often a Truth fucked up like this but invariably it was from good intentions and being new to the Nature. It was a cold comfort, almost as cold as his ice blue eyes as they stared their hate into the door of Lucius’ home. Willing himself into motion he walked with the air of executioner at his back. He couldn’t correct the past but this man had many more years of life left and no desire to desist. He knew Lucius was contemplating an apprentice to “carry his legacy of greatness as ordained by god”. Clearly his delusions were at least of the grand kind. The door was before him almost as if it were a gate of hell. The being within didn’t really qualify as human, hell Truth had met literal Monsters that were more human than Lucius. Truth moved mechanically by hate alone. Truth knew it was his fault but also knew he couldn’t take upon himself the actions of another. Free will and all that. Still the conflict in him had caused him to be out of sink with his Nature. Thus, he stood there knocking, like an automaton. Finally, a shrill response came, full of spite and self-importance telling him to hold the racket and that he was about important work. A shiver of raw hate slithered across Truth’s spine like a serpent full of venom. There was only one thing to this man that was or constituted an “Important Work” taking a new life as his own. The door swung wide with a quickness speaking of immense frustration. Clearly his latest work wasn’t going well. Truth could feel no other life present. He hoped whoever the poor soul was died fast. A sad thing to wish for a person. Eyes of a blue much like his own crouched rat like in a face some would have called handsome once but was so no longer, lesions marred skin in every facet of his appearance making him on the outside as his actions did on the inside. A snapping comment of what in the fuck Truth wanted flew forth in the same instance as the door opened, followed by a comment of how cops were already on the way as he had seen me standing out there like a serial killer for the past six hours. The comment spurred harsh laughter from Truth. Lucius had stated what he was and didn’t even flinch. He didn’t even believe he was a serial killer just a messenger of godly intent. Finally, Truth spoke.

“You don’t have a clue of who or what I am, do you?” Lucius’ face scrunched and replied with a, fuck no why should I kind of line. Truth wasn’t really paying attention. “You should, from a bar in Athens, twenty-nine years, seven months, twelve days, two hours, and thirteen minutes ago to the T as it were. I have a gift for you Lucius Kines, a much-delayed gift.” Truth could hear sirens coming fast as he watched Lucius’s face turn ashen and waxy with every word that tolled forth from Truth. Truth handed him a piece of paper, which Lucius accepted with trembling hands, from his pocket while his other hand withdrew a .45 caliber 1911 pistol and fired twice into Lucius’ heart spraying blood and bone everywhere. Lucius died instantly as the wailing sirens came to a crescendo of screeching tires on pavement. Truth dropped the pistol and reached into another pocket which held yet another note. The cops fired into him immediately, offering no warning no shouts nothing but the awful percussion of eight pistols going off in tandem with the furiously beating hearts of their wielders. Next thing truth knew he was laid out on the driveway concrete, a blood trail showing how he had walked through a storm of bullets to lay peacefully down. He could feel the chill saturate his body not unlike that hate that filled it either. That was when he saw Death. A fat indolent man who cared of nothing but watching how things went. Death looked upon him with empty eye sockets. He was withering. Spitting up blood in frothy bubbles Truth spoke, “You’ve lost weight, started a diet?”

 Death was not amused, he was oddly proud of the extra weight as if defying his stereo-type gave him immense gratification. “Ass, you know that’s not the case. I am at the end of this incarnation. I must leave and give my Aspect to another. Go figure even Death can die. Anyways I need you to help the next one with my, well, this Aspect so he won’t fuck up like you have. I have been around long enough to see four versions of you fuck up this way. That’s astounding. Anyways you can do this or pass on, as being out of sync with your Nature has left you in my porky hands to decide if you stay or go. So, what do you say? Favor for a favor?”

Truth laid there and grumbled frothing blood the whole while as a cop frisked him, ignorant that he squatted not mere inches from Death. The cop didn’t try to stop the bleeding or request assistance. Odd behavior for a cop. Truth set that aside for now even as he felt the touch of another’s Nature in the air. “You have your deal Death. Just wake me in the morgue. I like peace and quiet while I sleep this off. After all, dealing with you leaves me feeling something rotten in my mouth, no joke intended.” The cloudless sky began pouring rain and lightning flashed directly overhead without sound. “Maybe you should let me die, the Earth is quite furious with us it seems”

Death sighed. “This isn’t because of you or me kid, this is because of who was behind you and your friend here. Not to mention those three other Truths and their friends. Something really fucking shitty is going on in this world. Atlanteans may even return and the Witnesses are doing more than Witness. Mark me, Truth, the Ships of Glass have become Ships of Darkness. Whatever that means. Goodbye Truth and good luck finding the next Death all I know is he will be a bit of a beanpole. Disgusting.” With that Death was gone and Truth’s eyes grew heavy as he drifted to a place between Reality and Death.


End file.
